


Through Hellfire and Phone Calls

by SweatersAndScarves (SlaveToMyKeyboard)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Demonstuck, Domestic Fluff, Everyone is a demon, Magical Diary Cameo, Multi, Polyamory, more to come - Freeform, rating may change later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6852268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlaveToMyKeyboard/pseuds/SweatersAndScarves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living in the Underworld is tough when you don't like the rules. But for Kankri, a phone call from a certain aquatic demon makes life just that little bit easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Hellfire and Phone Calls

Your name is Kankri Vantas, and you are a demon. An Incubus to be exact, but nobody would know to look at you – you’re not showing nearly enough skin for many of your kin’s tastes. You’re most commonly mistaken for a mere Imp, which is quite frankly insulting, although you dislike the ‘occupation’ of your race so much that sometimes you just go with it. Some also call you a fallen Angel, which is far more pleasant, if a little off-putting to any who hear. But you can’t agree to that one; creating a scenario for your fall is a lie that extends far beyond a simple misidentification. Also because you may be a demon, but lying is still frowned upon when it is used against your own, and you’d rather not get hauled up in front of Lucifer.

Speaking of lying.

“No, no, I can’t possibly come in today,” Your housemate slumps against the wall, hand on his forehead dramatically as he fakes a few coughs, “yes it’s awful, I might even have to take the whole week of at this rate.”

You roll your eyes, but say nothing, returning your attention to the book cradled in your lap.

“Oh could you? That would be wonderful, thank you so much.” Your housemate coughs again, “I hope the students aren’t too disappointed, please give them my apologies. Yes, I’ll be sure to rest. Alright, goodbye.” He lets out a long sigh, then flops over the back of the couch, putting his head level with your lap, his long purple hair sprawled over the cushions.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “I can’t believe they keep falling for that, you didn’t even sound at all unwell besides the obviously forced coughing, which might I add could actually cause real damage to your throat, and then when you call in about it they won’t believe you because of all the times you’ve cried werewolf.”

He shrugs, slipping a little further down into the seat, “It doesn’t matter what you think, and I know they will keep falling for it because they’re stupid imps, like you.” He pokes your arm and you swat his hand away. “Ooh, tetchy,” he grins at you, eyes narrowed, “what’s gotten your wings bent out of shape?”

“Nothing, besides the fact that I now have to deal with you loitering around the house when I was convinced that I would finally get a day to myself; at least if you were actually ill you would be confined to your room and I could ignore you.” Okay that came out a little snapper than you intended.

He pouts, “I _am_ sick, sick of those _god-awful_ mages and their pathetic attempts at creating invocation circles, they think that just because they know my name they can use a regular summoning spell and call me that way, which completely defeats the whole bloody purpose of the exercise.” He throws an arm over his face, “It’s tragic Kankri, truly tragic to think that I, the great Damien Ramsey, have been reduced to educating such plebeians.”

You laugh slightly and shake your head, “I do hope you don’t refer to your students in such a manner when you are within earshot of them, it would cause any number of problems with not only their relationship with you but also their personal views and self-esteem, implying that someone is lower than you in any way could potentially trigger them, or those around them.”

Your housemate Damien is a drama queen of the highest order, but you can’t stay mad at him for too long, either through his dubiously sincere grovelling for your forgiveness or the dejected looks he fires in your direction if you ignore him. He reminds you of one of your brother’s friends, though their races differ dramatically. Damien’s kind has many names – changeling is one of the less-offensive terms – but his Incubus lineage makes him your kin, so you treat him as such. Even if many others often don’t.

“You and your triggers.” He mumbles, but for the sake of sparing more theatrics, you pretend you didn’t hear. He swings his legs over the back of the couch, almost hitting you with a wing as he rights himself to a cross-legged position, “So,” He says, leaning forwards into your personal space, “has _he_ asked you out yet?”

‘He’ is in reference to a Nickar – a water demon – that you met some months ago at a party. You don’t normally go to such things, but a few of your friends insisted. It was boring and stuffy, so you went outside to get some air and found a young man on the balcony. He had a cigarette between his lips, but it wasn’t lit.

“It’d be a waste.” He’d said.

You think it was more to do with his gills though, which you could only just see under his popped-up jacket collar. Gills and smoke are rarely an ideal combination. He gave you his name before you’d even asked.

“I’m Cronus, nice to meet ya.” He’d told you, with a lopsided smile that was charming enough to momentarily pull at your instincts. But you’ve held them back for so long that the desire was fleeting, barely noticeable.

You’d returned the favour, “My name is Kankri, and likewise.” Surnames are only given out to people you trust.

Your new friend had nodded approvingly, looking you up and down, “A pretty name for a pretty face.”

Your cheeks had been on fire at that; half embarrassment and half irritation.

Cronus is a flirt – you could tell that much immediately – and he assumed that as an Incubus, you would be too. You corrected him on this inaccuracy and expected that to be the end of his advances, but if anything he seemed to take it as a challenge. You swapped numbers after he claimed that he wanted to hear more about your point of view, and you agreed even though it was clearly just to give him more opportunities to seduce you. You truly hoped that you could bring him around to thinking as you do though, seeing as he was eager to listen to, or at least put up with, your speeches. His rather attractive appearance may also have swayed you slightly – you _are_ still an Incubus after all, and it’s not every day you get to spend time with a water demon on land; your brother keeps his Nickar friend away from you as if you’ve got the plague.

Cronus hasn’t been direct in his intentions, but every time you see each other he tries to push the boundaries just a little. A compliment here, an inch further into your personal bubble there. It’s painfully obvious to everyone what he wants – hence Damien’s curiosity – but for some reason he seems committed to coercing you into asking him. It’s not working though. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself every time you get the urge to pin him up against the wall and- no, no, no. Just no.

You huff and close your book with a crisp _snap_ that makes Damien flinch back, “No he has not, and even if he had it is none of your business.”

“None of my business?” He scoffs, “Kanks, we’ve been living together for-”

“Two years,” You interrupt, “I am quite aware, and as I have told you countless times during this period, I _despise_ that nickname.”

“Yes, two whole years of me putting up with your incessant rambling about politics and social justice and why demons should try to be nicer, so the least you can do is give me a little gossip in return.” He flutters his eyelashes, giving you the smile he uses on humans – the innocent one that keeps his pointed teeth concealed.

“That face will get you nowhere,” You tell him, and his expression immediately drops to a scowl, “especially as I owe you nothing; you could have quite easily left if you found me so difficult to live with, I’m sure even residing alone would be better than the apparent torture the mere sound of my voice is putting you through.”

“But I _stayed_ ,” He shuffles forwards, hands clasped to his chest, “I stayed because I knew that no other fucker would want to room with you, and there’s no way you’d be able to pay your rent if you refused to do a dishonest night’s work.”

“Dishonest indeed, which is exactly why I refuse.”

He continues to glare at you, but then he flashes his fangs in a chuckle, “You’re such a freak Vantas.”

“Better a freak here than a defiler in the human world.” The words fall out before you can hold them back, and you can’t even force a smile to try and make it into a joke.

Luckily, Damien is used to your way of thinking. “I suppose you’re right.” He says, relaxing back into the cushions as he pulls out his phone. You know he doesn’t mean it, but you’re hoping that he’s at least starting to consider your point of view.

*^*^*

You last for all of two hours, and then you just _have_ to get out of the house. Not only is Damien driving you up the belfry with pretending to be ill so that you have to get him things, your neighbours decided that today was a good day to demolish a wall. You can still feel the hum of the drill in your horns; you just know you’re going to have a migraine later.

“Going to see your _boyfriend_?” Damien teases in a sing-song voice as you pick up your bag.

“If you mean am I going to see my friend Cronus, then no, but if we happen to meet then yes we may be spending some time together, and I would appreciate it if you stopped making assumptions about our relationship as it may make some people, including me, feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh my god Kankri you’re so _bori-_ ” You cut him off by closing the door.

He’s frowning at you through the window as you walk past, so you wave at him, getting a dismissive hand swat in return.

It’s still relatively early, so there’s not many people on the streets. You wander down well-known paths, passing houses you’ve seen a thousand times but have no idea who lives in them. It’s nice, just walking and thinking, deciding which book you might read next or if you should buy a new plant for your rock garden. Perhaps you could get out your note book and jot down a few ideas you’ve had lately, for your next sermon or one of your more creative pursuits. Eventually you end up outside your brother’s house, and decide to check in since you haven’t visited for a while. The worst he can do is slam the door in your face, and you’re getting used to that from him by now. It takes a while for him to answer, but after a series of thuds you are greeted by a smaller Incubus poking his head around the half-opened door.

His expression is flat, but there’s a blush on his cheeks, “What?”

“Hello Karkat, are you open to company or should I come back another time? You see I was hoping for a chat since it has been some time since our last proper catch up.”

“Um,” He looks back into the house for a moment, “yeah sure just uh, wait here a sec.”

Oh, well that was easy, you guess you caught him in a good mood. You hear shuffling and Karkat’s mumbled curses, then the door opens fully to reveal your brother, wearing nothing but a long t-shirt that clearly isn’t his. He turns and gestures for you to follow him inside. You and your brother are near-identical – same undersized, leathery wings, squat, rounded horns, and short, whip-like tails which are furrier than normal – differentiated only by height, hairstyle and… Wardrobe choices.

“Shouldn’t you put something else on?” You say, stepping carefully over the threshold and closing the door behind you, “It’s a little chilly outside to be wearing something so revealing, not to mention the issue you just encountered of having to dress yourself before opening the door being repeated. What if it had been someone other than me? They may have taken advantage of your current state or you could have even triggered them by showing so much skin.”

“Kankri,” Karkat sighs, “we’re Incubi, I don’t technically have to wear anything, but I do because I have at least a shred of fucking decency, now do you want tea or coffee?”

You frown, “Tea please, two sugars and no milk.” You’ve learned not to argue with your brother – he’s one of the most stubborn people you’ve ever met, not to mention loud.

“Under ten syllables, good fucking job.” He grumbles, probably thinking you can’t hear as he trudges into the kitchen. “Wait in the living room.” He shouts back at you.

You do as he asked and settle yourself on the sofa, which allows you to still get a view of what’s going on in the other room. Not that you’re spying or anything, you mean the door’s right there and open, you couldn’t ignore it even if you wanted to.

“Hey babe, coffee?”

You recognise the Harpy in the kitchen as Karkat’s boyfriend Dave. He’s holding out a steaming mug, greeting Karkat with a slight smile and a peck on the lips. The smaller demon just grunts what you assume was a thankyou and takes the cup, knocking back a mouthful and then leaning his cheek on Dave’s shoulder.

“Kankri wants tea.” Karkat says after another swig, and then a third drains the cup completely, “no milk two sugars.”

“Coming right up.” Dave turns around to pour your drink, whilst still keeping Karkat upright with one arm.

Footsteps herald the arrival of the house’s other two residents, plodding downstairs half-dressed like Karkat and stumbling into the kitchen. They mumble good mornings and then drape themselves over either side of their smaller boyfriend, relieving Dave of his support duty. You were a little unsure when Karkat first announced that he was in a relationship with three other people, but after seeing them together you could understand why they decided to take such a big step. They bicker and argue, as couples tend to do, but they all complement each other in their own quirky ways, and they clearly share a collective attraction.

The Nickar, Eridan, wraps his arms around Karkat’s waist, fluttering his aural fins as he nuzzles and kisses at your brother’s neck. Sollux, a Naga, takes the other side, his forked tongue flicking out across Karkat’s grey skin whilst their tails coil together. You wonder if they’ll mind that you can clearly see what’s happening. Then you catch Karkat’s gaze and he winks at you before closing his eyes, blunt fangs dragging on his lower lip. Never mind what Karkat thinks – ‘embracing his nature’ he calls it – you _definitely_ shouldn’t be watching them behave this way. You suddenly find the cushion to your right very, very interesting. Wow, just look at that embroidery. You’re sure one of the Maryam’s had a hand in its creation, it’s so detailed and sewn perfectly, not a single thread out of place. This is doing a surprisingly good job of distracting you from what’s probably happening to your brother in the kitchen, considering any of them have yet to emerge. You’re not sure if it’s good or bad that you can’t hear anything.

Eventually – probably only a minute or two, but it felt like an hour – Dave comes in and offers you a cup. You thank him and take a sip. Mmm, brewed just the way you like it. Karkat may not know how to make even the simplest tea properly, but a couple of his friends are excellent at it and Dave is one of these people. He sits down on the couch opposite you, joined by Sollux and Eridan on either side of him. Karkat stretches out across their laps, narrowly avoiding a coffee waterfall over his legs. Sollux hisses, but Karkat just sticks his tongue out at him. Dave snickers and decides to use Karkat’s hip as an arm rest, holding the Incubus down when he wiggles and growls, but he’s soon silenced when Eridan’s webbed fingers comb through his hair.

You weren’t going to say anything. You know Karkat has looser morals than you, gives into his instincts easier, and that’s fine because both of you still have better scruples than most other members of your race, and you in particular are widely known for being a ‘tight-ass’. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t judge your brother’s choices and as long as he’s happy, you truly have no problem with his relationships or the way he conducts himself – within reason. But when he’s blatantly flaunting it in front of you like this, whilst also acting as if you’re not even _there_. You just _have_ to say something.

“Karkat,” Your voice gets his attention, and he pushes Dave’s hand away from where it’s creeping up his shirt – he does actually have boxers on under it, thank god, “could we perhaps have our conversation in private?”

He glares at you for a moment, then rolls his eyes and drags himself to his feet. You’re expecting him to tell the others to leave, but instead he grabs your hand and leads you out into the kitchen, closing the door behind him this time to cut you off from the rest of the house. In this light, you can see red bruises blooming under his skin, little crescents and circles over his neck and what’s visible of his shoulders. You realise you’re staring and look away.

“Go on then, what the fuck is so important that it has to be kept between us like some sort of deadly secret, the mere utterance of which outside of our presence would rain the flames of hell down upon our poor semi-mortal souls?” Karkat asks, arms folded and scowling.

“It’s nothing so sinister, I was merely going to suggest that you tone down the level of physical affection between you and your- partners when you have guests or are out in public, as although I personally am not offended by it, others may feel uncomfortable to see you acting that way, especially if they have a trigger relating to relationships or certain levels of touch-”

“That is such bullshit.” He interrupts.

You take a deep breath, calm Kankri, calm, “I know you probably think that I’m targeting you or being unfair in some way because of my own personal preferences and bias, but really I am just attempting to warn you for your own good as there are many people out there who are far less lenient than me.”

Karkat scoffs, “Look, I don’t care if you’re offended by my sexuality or my ‘partners’ or whatever, but at least have the fucking guts to be upfront about it instead of parading around talking about ‘my own good’ to cover your ass.”

You can’t help but frown at that – does he really think you would be so hypercritical as to mask your own issues with concern for his wellbeing?

“I don’t think that at all Karkat, as I said I have no problems at all with your lifestyle and even if I did it is your life for you to do as you please, it would be wrong of me to try and step in simply because of my own beliefs. Which I apologize for being guilty of in the past, as you would not have brought it up if it had not been a recurring issue or one that had struck a particular chord with you as it were. But whilst we’re on the subject of personal preferences, and your proclaimed lack of triggers prevailing, would you be opposed to discussing the finer points of our society’s double standards when it comes to marginalizing self-respect and physical modesty? As an extension, we could delve into my numerous misgivings about what is considered the norm for many of the Underworld’s inhabitants, if you feel comfortable to do so. The others may also join in if they wish, having the viewpoints of such varied races would be such an asset to our debate- I mean conversation.”

“Oh god _no_.” Karkat mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face and through his hair.

You tilt your head, “Do they perhaps have conflicting views on these things? If so, would it not be better to discuss them out in the open together? Especially since your relationships are evidently far into the realms of physicality and potentially sexuality, although I do not wish to make presumptions and I’m sorry if that supposition makes you feel uncomfortable, but I think it is important to be open when you wish to become serious with someone or multiple someones.”

“No!” Karkat’s eyes widen, “No, it’s fine, just- we don’t need to have that conversation, we don’t need to have any of those conversations, we’re fine, we’re all perfectly comfortable and respectful and stuff, okay?” Then he’s scowling again, “And even if we did, we don’t need you there as some sort of unnecessary mediator who gets off on talking about things that are bound to make other people uncomfortable, but does it anyway because it’s okay if you ‘tag your triggers’ first.”

Your tail lashes behind you, but that’s the only reaction you allow, “Alright I see your point, I will respect your wishes and steer clear of that subject from now on, but in future please tell me of your distaste for the theme of our discussion before I go off on such a tangent, so that we may save ourselves the trouble of going through this ‘after the horse has bolted’ scenario, _yet again_.”

Honestly, it’s as if he’s never even considered his triggers before.

“Okay fine,” Karkat sighs, “I promise I’ll let you know next time you’re about to squick me out.”

You smile, “Thank you, and I will do the same, I try to keep a completely open mind but believe it or not there are things that I would prefer not to talk about.”

He looks as if he’s about to retort, but just shakes his head.

You return to the living room, and this time Karkat sits next to you. It’s then that you remember you’ve never really been together with all four of them like this before. This should be… Interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how much I want to write of this, maybe another chapter or two at least, but here you go - some demonstuck to (hopefully) cure my writer's block! P.S. My representations of the mythical creatures mentioned are more human than most mythologies state because convenience *shrugs*
> 
> Also yay for self-indulgant cameos of obscure dating sim characters! (I will love anyone who knows who Damien is)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! Kudos and feedback are always welcome. I wish you a good night/day my dear reader.


End file.
